


Clueless Lou - A Tomlinshaw Love Story

by takhallus



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 10:22:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1937247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takhallus/pseuds/takhallus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Nick is an idiot, he makes crap jokes and he’s silly and he doesn’t care what people think about him, and he watches dumb TV shows and he’s got a stupid laugh. Okay, fine, maybe Nick is a little bit cute. Maybe he’s got soft, soulful eyes which make you want to just protect him forever. Maybe he’s got a handsome, animated face which makes you feel like the sun is shining every time you look at it. Maybe he does know everything I like and exactly how to stop me being sad and maybe when he puts his arms around me I feel safe for the first time since my real dad left us. Maybe…. Oh shit. Maybe I am completely and utterly in love with Nick Grimshaw. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clueless Lou - A Tomlinshaw Love Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sweetandgentle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetandgentle/gifts).



> WARNINGS AND TRIGGERS : There is one instance of threatened non-con, and a mention of a 15 year old having sex which is not in any detail.

Clueless Lou - A Tomlinshaw Love Story

 

My name is Louis Tomlinson, and I’m eighteen years old. I live in Primrose Hill, in a house which is technically a mansion. I’m really popular at school because, not be vain, but I’m the best looking guy there, and I have all the coolest friends. I live pretty much a charmed life, apart from right now, sitting outside my dad’s study waiting for the bollocking of all bollockings. You see, my mate Zayn and I like to smoke every now and then, if you know what I mean. I’m not talking Silk Cut. Anyway, I thought it would be fine to just light up in the car behind school, but I didn’t reckon on Mr Cowell (he’s the headmaster) walking past and getting us to roll the windows down. I asked him how he knew what pot smoke smelled like, but he just told me to stop being a smart arse or he’d contact my parents.

Obviously, I couldn’t stop being a smart arse.

So here I am, waiting to see what punishment my dad will try to give me. I’ve managed to talk my way out of every punishment ever handed down so far. My dad’s a corporate lawyer, and my mum’s a human rights lawyer : I’ve learned from the best.

“Louis, come in here, please”. Both my parents are going to be there for this one, which is how I know it’s bad. I push open the oak panelled doors to the study and put on my best sorry face.

My mum’s sitting at the desk with her hands crossed like she’s a witness. Dad’s behind her, and he doesn’t look happy. 

“Louis, do you know how serious this is? Mr Cowell could have called the police, what do you think it would have looked like if I’d been called at chambers to be told my son was smoking dope in a car with a… graffiti artist!?”

I bite my lip, one of my trademarks. “I’m sorry dad, I didn’t know Zayn would be smoking marijuana, he just offered to give me a lift home, I thought they were herbal cigarettes.”

“Louis, that is absolute grade A bullshit.” Nice tongue, mum! 

“I have to concur with your mother, you knew what you were doing, and it’s made our position very difficult - you know we’re about to go away.” Dad glances down at the brochure, they’re taking all of my horrible little sisters away to a villa in Florida and I was going to have the house to myself again for a whole month. They know I’ll never go with them and leave my friends, plus they haven’t yet found the private tutor that will deal with me. 

“You’re not going to cancel your holiday and stay here are you dad? I’d feel awful if you had to do that.” This is perfect. At the very worst I’ll get a month in Florida and no school work, at the best they’ll go anyway and ask Harry’s mum to ‘pop in and keep an eye on me’, and she’ll bring her shepherd’s pie if I ask her. 

“No, we’re still going, but you obviously can’t be left unsupervised.” I’m getting ready to roll out the old ‘resigned-to-this-terrible-shepherd’s-pie-related-fate face…

“Luckily Nick has finished university now he’s going to come and keep an eye on you while we’re away”.

“What?!” This cannot be happening! “No way dad, please, he’s a total prick! I don’t know why I ever have to see him again, nobody sees their godson!”

Okay - exposition time (I learned that from Zayn, it’s like, from comics and shit). Dad isn’t my biological father, that prick’s long gone. When Mark met my mum he already had this godson, and he had a weird compulsion to bring Nick with him everywhere like he was a member of the family. But there’s one thing for fucking certain, Nick is NOT family, as if I would ever be related to a pretentious arse from fucking Manchester who won’t listen to a band if anyone else has ever heard of them and wears shit clothes which his friends make for him, and who, let’s face it, is a fucking idiot.

“You’ve proven time and time again that you can’t be trusted on your own. Nick is like family to us and his word is law while he’s here. You treat him with respect, it’s very kind of him to take time out to come here”.

“Oh come off it dad, as if he wouldn’t want to be prised away from some grotty student hole to come and live in the lap of luxury for a month. He’ll make my life hell while I’m here, he’s completely unreasonable and the least cool person on the planet, seriously, he wears white Nikes which are like, box fresh, I mean, come on!”

Okay so that last point was a bit of a weak one, but who doesn’t scuff up their white trainers? They look weird all perfect like that. I turn on the last ditch charm to see if mum will help me out. “Please can I come to Florida mum, I promise I’ll be good, please don’t leave me alone, I’ll miss you all too much.”

Mum clears her throat and picks up a piece of paper from the desk. “Deposition dated May 13th - Louis Tomlinson - “I can’t wait til you take those squawking idiots off to that stinking swamp and I can get some peace”. Johanna Tomlinson - “Wouldn’t you like to come with us Louis?” Louis Tomlinson - “Mother, I would rather shit in my hands and clap than spend a month in that alligator-infested shithole.”

Somehow I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass. “Fine, I’ll stay here with Nick, but if you think he’ll be able to control me you’ve got another thing coming.”

They look at each other and smile and I feel a chill in the pit of my stomach. Dad’s turn to lawyer me. “I’ve contacted Addison Lee and told them that all bookings on our taxi account have to go through Nick, he has a password. That goes for all of our accounts. So unless you’re going to get a part time job, or pass your driving test before we get back, you won’t be rampaging all over London or frittering all of our money away on clothes. Nick will handle the budget and the food shopping, so if you want to keep up anything like your current lifestyle, I expect you not to give him any trouble.”

I feel defeated and I hate that feeling. There must be a way out, there must be a loophole…

“And if you’re trying to think up a loophole, give it up, I’ve been through every detail and this punishment is tight as a gnat’s chuff.”

“Do you use phrases like that in court mum?” She’s so embarrassing sometimes.

“I’ve spent more time on this than I have on some people’s deportation hearings. So just suck it up and try for once to be a normal human being for Nick. Hopefully he’ll be a good influence on you.”

Ugh, I feel sick. This is the worst injustice known to man. “Can I go now? Harry’s picking me up for school, I wouldn’t want to be late, would I?”

Mum nods, “Yes, by all means go and tell Harry how this is the ‘worst injustice known to man’. You’ve got two days to adjust your attitude before Nick gets here. Oh and Louis, we know your coursework grades are in this week, and if they’re not good enough, no driving lessons.”

Shit. I try hard to squash down my anger and not even tell Harry, just to show them they don’t know everything. But then I think of how unsympathetic my other mates will be. Niall will shake his head and say I had it coming. Zayn will remind me that his parents threatened to send him to work in some uncle’s factory in Pakistan if he got brought home by the police again. I thunder out of the room and grab my D and G satchel, giving the front double doors a nice dramatic push.

Harry gives me a slow clap from the Range Rover. 

“Hazza, you will never believe what they’ve done to me….”

Harry is my best friend because we both know what it’s like to have people be jealous of us. He lives a few miles away, his house is bigger but the gardens are smaller and his mum’s only got two cars, so we’re about even. He has his nice brown curls pushed back by what looks like a McQueen silk scarf.

“Nice headscarf, going for the northern washerwoman look?”

He just smirks at me. “Everyone will have them by next week. If you don’t wanna be left out I suggest you order a few online now, they’ll sell out in Debenhams.” 

He’s right too, I have to give him props for his fashion sense. “I wish I could Hazza but even if I did want to commit fashion suicide, my parents have locked me out of all our accounts.” He’s looking at me with real concern now, like I’ve just been told I have to have something amputated. It’s kind of the same…

“Seriously? Not all of them surely? Addison Lee?”

“The first to go.”

“Ocado?”

“Yep, oh my God, I bet Nick doesn’t know how to use Ocado, he probably thinks Waitrose is upmarket.”

“Oh is Nick coming?” Ugh, I forgot that Harry kind of likes Nick. He kind of likes everyone really, but they hit it off last time Nick was down. Harry likes to think he’s down-to-earth type when he never pays less than £200 for a pair of jeans.

“Yeah, and that’s not the worst of it, he’s like, babysitting me for a month while my parents are in Florida, all because of Zayn’s stupid spliff. It’s bullshit Harry, I won’t be able to have any fun for a whole month.”

“Well I can still drive you round, and Nick isn’t that bad, maybe we can like, hang around with him a bit, he might mellow.”

I’m rolling my eyes so hard, I wish Harry could see through my Ray Bans. “I don’t think so Haz, he’s boring, he can suck the fun out of anything.”

“He can suck the fun out of m -”

“Don’t even! Urgh, he’s not even fit.”

Harry just shrugs, he’s not serious anyway, he’s only saying it to wind me up. Looks like I’m not getting any proper sympathy here either. There’s forty eight hours before Nick arrives, I’m sure I can think of something…

 

\---

Okay, I couldn’t think of anything, and now the nightmare’s real.

How can I describe Nick Grimshaw? He’s like fashion never happened. He wears skinny jeans even though he hasn’t got the bum for them, and he has stupid, spindly stork legs. He’s got long, gangly monkey arms and he’s ugly as fuck with these vacant, gormless eyes and a stupid horse laugh and a disgustingly hairy chest. Even worse, he has his hair in this ridiculous quiff which just shows off how far back his hair line has gotten, and he dresses like a homeless person rummaging through Kanye’s bin. He thinks he’s so gangster and cool because he likes hip hop but he’s just a wanker who wears too many bracelets and thinks flannel shirts are still a thing. 

And he’s sitting on my couch. My couch, in my spot. And he’s smiling that stupid, village idiot smile at me.

“Aw, here he is, my favourite little man. Come here, princess, come and give Nicky a big squeeze.” He reaches his ape limbs out like he wants a tire to swing on.

“Fuck off, I’m not happy about this. I’m gonna make your life a misery, just you wait.”

Stupid Nick can’t even lie very well. His big moronic eyes tell you exactly how he’s feeling and right now I’ve jabbed him just right. He probably thinks me and him are gonna be mates. He’s sadly mistaken, he looks like a kicked puppy.

“Whatever Lulu, I know you love me really.” He goes back to messing on his phone but I’m not done with him yet.

“Are those floral jeans? You know that not even someone cool could make them happen, so you’ve got no chance.”

He looks up at me and his nostrils flare, I’ve got his attention, he’ll start on me and then I’ll tell mum and dad he’s being a dick and they’ll send him home. 

“Oh please give me fashion advice Lulu, I so want to look like the sale rail at Sports Direct.”

“This is an Adidas Originals, limited edition. Do you even own anything that’s limited edition? Oh wait, I take it back, because I genuinely hope there isn’t another pair of them jeans knocking about.”

He’s up, those stork legs stretching out in front of him. He always stands up like a baby deer. As he walks past me he pokes my stomach. 

“Ooh, filling out there Lou, is that why you’re wearing all the sports gear? Have you got a bun in the oven?”

“Piss off!” I am not getting fat! There’s nothing on my stomach! Fuck I hate him.

“Oh yeah true, a man would have to touch you for that to happen.” 

I hate this fucker so much. I follow him into the kitchen to have another go at him but there. with my sisters in all their going away gear, are mum and dad. And bang, he’s all sweetness and light.

“Aw Jo, I love that dress on you, it’s proper flattering, that.” 

Mum’s instantly fooled. “Thank you Nick, I love this dress, it’s only from Marks you know, but it’s so good for travelling in.” She puts her arm around him and they all look at me. “Lou, Nick’s got all of the account details, but we’ve done a weekly shop anyway. I’m going to be emailing Nick every day, and he’s under strict instructions to tell me everything, so behave.”

Dad’s got his leather document case with all the paperwork in it and it’s bulging out all over the place. I take it off him and re-arrange them before he wrecks the zip. “Have you got your inhalers dad? It’s humid out there, don’t forget to take them.”

“Yes, thanks son, I’ve got everything. Now, on the topic of your coursework grades…”

“Oh they’re not ready yet dad. Some of the teachers are trying to low ball me so I’m treating these first grades as a jumping off point to start negotiations.”

Mum and Dad look at each other like they’ve created a monster, but I know they’re proud.

“Very good son, well I’ll ring up in a week then and get them off Nick.”

I shrug. “Fine, don’t even need a week. Have you got factor 40 for dad’s shoulders mum? Remember Cannes last year?”

She ruffles my hair and I want to give her a big hug but I won’t give Nick the satisfaction. “Aw, our little Lou, always looking after the family. Yes, I’ve got it. Right, we need to make a move.”

They all file past me, all the girls, then dad, then mum, all giving me a hug, all telling me they’ll miss me. Fliss says she’ll get me a present, and for a minute, I really want to be going with them. Mum gives me a big kiss and then they’re gone. I’m sad but I can’t let him see, so I just run off upstairs while he waves them off from the drive. I throw myself on the bed and lie there listening. I can hear the doors bang shut, and Nick the Dick shouting goodbye, and then the door closing. I feel like having a cry at the injustice of it all but then I can hear Nick coming up the stairs, his poncey red hi-tops slapping on the marble like he owns the place. There’s a knock at my door and I curl my back against the sound.

“Lou, what do you want for tea? Do you fancy pizza?”

“Not hungry.” Did that sound like I was crying? Because I’m fucking not. My eyes are just leaking with rage. It goes quiet and I think he’s gone but then…

“Can I come in? I’m sorry I said you look fat, you know I’m only messing, you’re like a whippet.”

“Go away.” Okay it definitely didn’t sound like I was crying then. And who wants to look like a whippet? Him probably, with his long, dumb face. 

“Alright, I’ll get you a meat feast and leave it in the kitchen.”

When I’m sure he’s gone I get up and go into the en suite to clean my face up a bit. Normally when we get pizza we’ll all cuddle up on the big couch and watch something but he’s probably got some Kardashian shit on like the big girl he is.

When my face is back to normal I head down to the kitchen and grab my pizza and a diet coke. I’ve almost made it without seeing him when he heads me off at the stairs, half a slice of Hawaiian in his mouth.

“Hey, are you alright?” He says, pretending to be all concerned.

“I’d be better if I had some space and no annoying babysitter.”

He laughs with a mouthful of pizza like the pig he is, and gestures around. “Yeah, barely enough space for one hobbit in this place is there. Sleep tight, Frodo.”

I’m about to launch into a rant about how I’d rather be a hobbit than a stupid, gangly ent but I don’t see why I should let him drag me into the nerdiest argument known to man. I head upstairs to eat, thankful I don’t have to spend any more time with the clown.

\---

So the first morning of this absolute torture and he hasn’t even made me any breakfast. “Could you not have put me some toast in or something, I mean it’s not like you have anything else to do.” I snap at him while he sits looking blank, reading Sugarscape on his iPad and drinking a massive mug of tea whilst simultaneously gorging on croissants.

“I don’t know what you eat do I? Hang about, I’ll do you a croissant too.” He starts to get up but I’m not letting him take back the moral highground, no way.

“It’s fine, thanks SO much, I’ll just starve until lunchtime. Did you at least make me a brew?”

He rolls his eyes and pushes over my Doncaster Rovers mug. Blatant attempt to get me on-side. I’ll say this for him, he can actually make a decent brew.

“So what’s on the schedule for today Lulu? Any actual schoolwork or just fluttering those eyelashes to get your grades changed?”

“If you knew anything about the art of negotiation, you’d know that it’s more than fluttering your eyelashes, you have to present a balanced and persuasive argument and start out high.”

“Isn’t starting out high what got you into trouble in the first place?” When he laughs croissant crumbs fly out of his mouth, he looks SO pleased with himself for his shit joke. 

“Have a fun day looking at the job adverts Nicky, you could always come and work here as our cleaner, if you smartened yourself up a bit.” I do my best flounce and go outside to wait for Harry so I don’t have to look at his face anymore. The fact remains though that I do have to get my grades improved, otherwise no driving lessons and no car and no freedom ever in my life. On the way to school I tuned Harry out as he went on about his dad’s work friend Cal and how cool he is, and began to plot. 

I got my PE grade bumped from a C to a B by telling Ms Cooper that I would help out with the year 7 girls’ netball team training for the next two weeks - easy because they’re all so busy drooling over me that they do whatever I tell them. I told my Social Studies teacher Ms Phillips that I’d write to my MP about mandatory charges for plastic bags in shops, and she raised my B to an A. But my English teacher Mr Chaloner wouldn’t budge on my C, he said that my work on The Catcher in the Rye showed no deep thought or wider reading. As if!

Harry told me to give it up. “Mr Chaloner’s just a sexless a-hole. He needs a good seeing to, maybe that would loosen him up.”

Lightbulb moment! “Oh my God Harry, you’re right! If he was getting laid he’d be much more amenable to my demands. Right, who can we fix him up with?”

There weren’t that many prospects to be honest - Ms Cooper, in the grand tradition of PE teachers, seemed to be same-sex oriented. Ms Flack had a fit new boyfriend who was apparently barely even out of sixth form college. 

“What about Ms Phillips?” Harry said, chewing the end of his pen. Ms Phillips is from New York, she’s tough and sexy and she cares about shit. She looks like she’d give him the ride of his life. 

“Harry, you’re a genius! Give me that pen.” I tore a sheet from my notebook and started writing. “Dear Ms Phillips, rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, but thy eternal summer shall not fade.”

“Wow, dude, that’s worthy of Shakespeare.” Harry looked so impressed, I didn’t have the heart to tell him.

“Okay, I’m going to put this in her pigeon hole, see you in class.”

Back in the arse-end of double English, Mr Chaloner was handing out the month’s late slips. Perfect moment to get his attention….

“Zayn Malik, no late slips for me but I hear from every other teacher that you’re late for them nearly every lesson, should I be flattered or worried?”

Zayn glanced up through his devastating eyelashes. “I like English, Sir. I’m never late for art either.”

Chaloner looked quite satisfied with that. “Well keep an eye on it in your other lessons. Right, Louis Tomlinson, two late slips.”

I jump up out of my seat. “Sir, I object, what were the dates of these alleged late slips?”

He folds his arms, not impressed. “One was last Friday!”

“Oh sir, you can’t count that one, you know my mum’s pregnant, I had to get the twins ready for school because she had morning sickness.”

He rolls his eyes just a bit, but relents. “Ok, we’ll scratch that one.”

“Thanks Sir, Ms Phillips was right about you.” I sit down, waiting for him to take the bait. He tries to look nonchalant but it’s not really working.

“What was that?” He pretends to write something but I’m not buying it.

“Oh nothing Sir, she just said you were the only one in this school with any intelligence.” 

When he blushes and sits down, trying to concentrate on the register I give Harry a sly wink and he shakes his head. Louis one, Chaloner nil.

\--

Back at home I’m too happy to let anything bring me down. I must have been humming too loudly because Nick appears at the door wearing a stupid tshirt with a dog’s face on it. “Good afternoon Nicholas, “ I chirp, “you'll be pleased to know that I have successfully changed my grades once again so you don’t get the satisfaction of dobbing my in to my parents.” I pour myself some juice, pointedly NOT getting him any. 

He slouches in the doorway just watching me. “Your driving instructor rang, he can’t make the lesson today.”

Shit. “What? Why?” I need to keep up my lessons or I’ll never pass before the summer and that would ruin my plans to have the best summer in history.

“I don’t know, he just said he’ll see you next week and to practice parking.”

“How am I supposed to practice parking? I have no-one to take me out and my dad will murder me if I get another summons for driving on a provisional.” I don't even know why I’m telling him this, he must be enjoying my pain soo much.

“I’ll take you out if you want.”

Well. Now I don’t know what to do. Because I really really want to go and practice, but I don’t want to give Nick the satisfaction of helping me. I sigh and think about the greater good. “OK.”

“Ok, come on then, where do you normally go?”

I follow him out to the cars, telling him about the big patch of wasteland that’s about five minutes away. I don’t know why he’s being nice to me but I really just want to get this weirdness over and done with so I can go back to hating him. The car’s warm from the sun and he twitches a bit when he hits the hot plastic of the seat because he’s got his totally shit jorts on. I want to show him how perfect a driver I am so that he can’t have a go at me. I glide beautifully out of the drive and onto the main road.

“Hey, we drive on the right you know, you have to pick a side.”

He’s such a girl. “There’s nothing even coming.”

“You can’t do that on your test.”

“Like you even remember your test, you probably did it on a ….dinosaur.”

He laughs and then I laugh and I hate that he made me smile. I grit my teeth and turn into the gravel road which leads to the wasteground. “Where should I park? You tell me and I’ll squeeze in like a professional, I am BRILLIANT at parking.” I can see him shaking his head out of the corner of my eye but he just points ahead of us.

“Over there, reverse into the gap between the pothole and the tree.”

It’s a tight fit, but I know I can do it. I put all of my energy into not fucking up, checking my blindspot, gently maneuvering around, checking my mirrors. I am so desperate not to get it wrong in front of him that my hands are sweating on the wheel and I just misjudge a little bit, enough to sink the back wheel into the pothole and stall the car. I can feel cold and heat rushing up in my chest as I wait for him to start laughing at me, but instead he just says “Okay, don't worry, just ease it forward a bit then angle to the left, you nearly did it.”

I do as he says and it works, I’m in the space, I’m free of the pothole, and I feel really disoriented. 

“That was quite good that. Right, do you want to try over there? Between the bollards?”

The rest of the lesson is a bit of a blur. A few more tries and I really am parking like an expert even though it usually makes me nervous. He chats away on the ride home and I’m too distracted to concentrate on what he’s saying. His phone keeps buzzing.

“Who’s that?” I ask although it’s not really any of my business. I just want something to distract me from my own thoughts.

He looks at me and hesitates. “Oh just some guy”. 

Hmm. “Boyfriend?” I blurt out like an idiot.

“Erm…” I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it, we’ve never really talked about him liking boys because he knows I do too, and that’s where it gets a bit awkward, “Not really, he’s asking me to go out but I don’t feel like it, he’s trying to persuade me.”

This makes me angry for some unknown reason. “Tell him to piss off, you’re busy.”

He pauses like he wasn’t expecting that and starts looking at his phone again. “He’s quite sweet really, I told him I was tied up and he’s put ‘Like Romeo says “You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, and soar with them above a common bound”. 

I make something like a choking noise, the bile rising up in my throat. “Romeo didn’t even say that.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, because you know Shakespeare so well?”

“No, but I know Leonardo DiCaprio so well and he doesn’t say that, that Mercutio guy does.”

He seems a bit put out but he really needs to learn this guys a knobhead. “Well it’s the thought that counts, he’s a romantic.”

“He’s a dickhead. Can’t even be bothered sitting through a two hour film to get a text right.”

I keep expecting him to tease me, say I’m jealous, but he doesn’t, he just goes quiet.

“Yeah, well I’m not going out with him anyway, I’m staying in this weekend.”

We’re pulling into the drive at this point so I don’t bother replying. This is already awkward enough and I don’t even know why I’m bothered about the stupid text bloke. I try and force out some gratitude because it has actually been useful to practice and he didn’t have to do it. I wait until we’re out of the car and halfway into the house, so I can make a quick getaway. “Erm, like, thanks, you know for taking me out.” I mumble to him. He doesn’t answer, and when I look up he’s looking straight at me with a weird look on his face. Eventually he starts nodding like one of those toy dogs you put in the back shelf of the car.

“Yeah, yeah, no worries. Any time. It’s important, you know, to drive.” And with that he’s off into the kitchen. It’s been a weird day. We haven’t even really argued. Of course I’m not really expecting it to last long, and it doesn’t. At tea time we start arguing over the TV - I want to watch the football and he’s got some documentary on about people on benefits. “You’ve got a TV in your room, or you can watch it later, the football’s live, it’s not the same.”

He huffs and grabs his food, tossing the remote at me with a face like thunder. “You know in some parts of the world, not in your little Primmy Hill bubble but the normal world, it’s considered cool to know about social issues.”

“Oh Nick, please give me lessons in how to be cool. And I don’t live in a bubble, I care about things, just not while there’s a Champions League semi-final.” 

“Care about what? Not about anyone with less money than you, that’s for sure.”

“Actually, I am, right at this moment trying to help two lonely teachers find love.”

He rolls his eyes again, a gesture which is becoming increasingly irritating. “Which I bet serves your ends more than it does theirs. If I ever saw you doing anything that wasn’t totally self-serving I would die of shock.” He storms off and I yell after him.

“That would be a good enough reason for me.” Fucking Nick. Thinks he’s so perfect. I care about people. I care about my family and my friends. Anyway, there’s football on and that’s what I care about right now. I’m trying to concentrate on it but what he said keeps ringing in my ears. I’m not just helping Mr Chaloner and Ms Phillips because it helps me, I would do it anyway. Wouldn’t I?

\----

The next morning I’m still not right. “Hazza, would you call me selfish?”

“Not to your face. What’s up?” He looks at me with that concerned brow wrinkle of his that would make anyone spill their guts. 

“Just something Nick said to me, that’s all. Oh look, it’s Mr Chaloner.” I jump up and rush over, because now proving Nick wrong is on the agenda I really need to step this up. “Mr Chaloner!”  
He’s wearing a denim blue button up shirt and brown pants with these hideous walking boots which should never been seen off the side of a mountain. “Mr Chaloner, do you like coffee?”

He’s looking at me like Nick does sometimes, like it’s a trap. “Yes, thought I wouldn’t drink it from this school’s vending machines.”

Best acting Lou, come on. “Well I’m such an idiot, we were at Starbucks and we picked up the wrong order so now I have these two grande soy lattes and Harry and I don’t drink coffee. We thought you and Ms Phillips might like them?”

“Oh. Erm, sure, thanks Louis, that’s very nice.” 

I leave him standing there looking a bit baffled, clutching the coffees like he’s not sure what happened, while I dart back to Harry to watch the show. He ambles his way over to Ms Phillips and offers her one of the cups.

“Now stay and chat, stay and chat.” I murmur as they awkwardly skirt round each other. Suddenly Ms Phillips throws back her head and laughs that bubbling New York chuckle and Harry and I high five.

“We’d better move “ Harry says picking up his bag. We’re both already dressed for PE which today is tennis. Except Ms Cooper has got the ball machine out, and that’s not exactly Wimbledon. I put on my bright white Fred Perry Adidas Originals for nothing. 

“Ms Cooper, PE in this school, is a disgrace, standing in a line to hit a ball every five minutes isn’t exactly good exercise is it?” 

“Well, you’ve certainly exercised your mouth Louis, now come on, try to hit the ball.” She stands with her arms folded, her bright red tracksuit making my eyes hurt where it contrasts with the orange clay courts. Honestly, she has no idea. I raise the racket and a ball flies past my nose, ruffling my fringe. “Ms Cooper, that ball machine is a lawsuit waiting to happen!”

“Thanks for the legal advice Louis, Zayn, you’re up.” 

Zayn glances up from his book. “Erm, Miss, my modelling agent has written me a letter, I can’t risk any activity where balls fly at my nose.”

“There goes your social life,” quips Niall. Possibly the funniest thing he will ever say but Zayn just sticks a finger up at him and goes back to reading his graphic novel.

Ms Cooper’s getting even more annoyed now and just as she’s about to go off on one of her famous London Olympics rants about the spirit of Mo Farah, the head of year Mr Fincham comes over with a boy I’ve never seen before.

“Ms Cooper, a new student for you, this is Liam Payne.”

He’s so out of place here, he looks like he’s just wandered in from the 1990s. He’s wearing a long sleeved Batman tshirt, straight leg blue jeans and ...oh my God. “He’s got Bieber hair” I whisper to Harry, who tries not to laugh but mostly fails.

Ms Cooper looks him up and down. “Okay Liam, come on, you can hit a few balls in those clothes.”

“He could be a farmer in those clothes.” pipes up Danielle Peazer, with all her little girl group snickering behind her. 

“What would you know Danielle? Still trying to get on the books at the Littlewoods catalogue?” Everyone’s surprised to hear Zayn defending the new kid, not least Danielle who shuts right up.

Liam’s gone as red as Ms Cooper’s tracksuit and he looks like he’s about to cry. It’s then that I make a snap decision which could change my entire life. Or at least the next few weeks. I get Liam’s attention and wave him over. 

“What are you doing?” Harry whispers out the side of his mouth. “He’s toe-up.”

I just ignore him, putting on my best smile. “Hi Liam, I’m Louis and this is Harry, come and hang out with us, we’ll be your mates.”

He trots over and looks so relieved and happy, like a 14 year old retriever being taken home from the pound. He smiles this quite lovely and genuine smile. “Thanks lads, I’m freaking out, this school is so posh.”

“Yeah, but we’ll look after you, don’t you worry.” I pat him on the back and stick my tongue out at Harry who is shaking his head. This will be easy, and it will be completely selfless. I’ll show Nick.

\--

At lunch time we give Liam a run down of the must have knowledge to survive in our school. Harry thinks this mostly consists of who he can and can’t date. 

“So Liam, do you like boys or girls?” Harry, straight in with the awkward questions.

Liam blushes again “Erm, like, both?”

Harry is really pleased with this, he loves having a lot to work with. “Okay, well over there on the grass are Danielle and her gang, they can be a proper nightmare but they are acceptable girls to date. Then you’ve got your boys, see Niall over there and the lads he’s hanging out with? They’re pretty much your only option unless you want to date down. You don’t want to date down do you?”

“Er, no?” 

Harry nods, satisfied. Before he can carry on, Liam interrupts him, glancing around the yard. 

“Where’s that boy that stood up for me in PE?”

I make a cutting my throat gesture at Harry over Liam’s head. Him and Zayn would be a terrible idea, Zayn would eat him alive, break his heart and possibly get him jailed. “Oh Zayn? He’s probably in detention, or he’s been suspended or something. He’s a bit wild. What do you think of Niall?” Niall is a much better option. He’s virtually the Irish Liam. 

Liam tilts his head and looks over at Niall, who’s looking really good today in a plain white tshirt and what look like highlights in his hair. He’s laughing at his boys, showing off those toothpaste advert teeth of his. “Yeah, he’s cute.”

“Excellent!” I clap my hands together and Harry jumps, nearly spilling his frappe. “Come over to my place tonight Liam, me and Harry are going to give you a make-better.”

“Wha - what’s that?” He looks worried, but not as worried as Harry. 

“It means we’re going to give you an image overhaul which will get Niall to go crazy over you. So come round about seven for dinner okay?” Hopefully Nick will be there to see my good deeds and how much of a decent person I am, and then he can eat his words, and hopefully they’ll go straight to his chubby love handles.

\--

Liam is so adorable, the doorbell rings at exactly seven pm on the dot, and he’s brought donuts with him. Harry’s been here since after school and we’ve already been assembling a mood board and some outfits. After a KFC family bucket (Nick still hasn’t worked out the fucking Ocado properly) we take him upstairs and show him all our hard work. He looks completely terrified. 

“What’s that?”

“That’s a mood board.” Harry says as if he’s an alien. “We’ve used your colouring and some staple casuals to give you a few new outfits, you can borrow these off us for now and then at the weekend we’ll take you shopping.”

“No, not that. That!” Liam’s pointing at the hair clippers.

Harry and I look at each other - we knew he wouldn’t be up for it, but we have to use our powers of persuasion. I try to look natural, like it’s nothing important. “Oh, well the one must have accessory is a cool, signature haircut. You can build everything else around it. So just trust us, okay? Now get undressed.”

He doesn't look convinced so I pretend I desperately need to talk to Harry in the other room to give him some privacy. A few minutes later we go back in and...well. Liam is fit! I mean, he’s ripped! Harry’s mouth is hanging open as he gets a good look. Liam’s got a bit of chest hair, a nice flat stomach, ABS! His arms and legs, which were hidden under those baggy, unflattering clothes, are muscled and toned and he looks like a demi-God.

“Jesus Christ Liam, where were you hiding that body?!”

He goes his signature shade of red and just shrugs at me. “I do weights and boxing. I was bullied at my old school so my dad suggested it to stop people from messing with me.”

“God bless you Mr Payne.” says Harry. We holds up some scissors and I nod. 

“Oh yes, no sleeves for you Payno, we’ve got to give everyone a free pass to the gun show. Now, about this hair…”

\----

Just like in the make-over shows, we’ve covered up the mirrors, so Liam can’t see the finished effect. He’s stood in front of the full length mirror which is draped with a towel. Harry is stood ready, like a magician’s assistant, to pull it off and do the big reveal. When Harry tugs off the towel, Liam just gapes. He’s in black Nikes, skinny black jeans with a studded leather belt, a clean white vest and red plaid shirt with the sleeves cut off, plus Harry’s leather bracelets and a couple of chunky silver chains. We’ve clipped the back of his head super short leaving it longer on top and up front which we’ve styled it into a quiff, and even if I do say so myself, he looks hot as balls. 

“Wow. I don’t even look like me.” Liam does a little twist to checkout his own ass. 

“This is all just dressing up Liam, you had the goods already.” I give his bicep a little squeeze and he giggles. “You are gonna knock Niall dead when he sees you. He’ll come in his sweatpants, swear to God.”

“Louis, that’s disgusting!” Harry’s such an old woman. He dusts down Liam’s shirt and gives a pleased nod. “You look amazing Liam.”

“Thanks guys,” Liam says, blushing, “I really love the hair too.”

“Knock knock! Oooo, hello!” Nick barges in and looks Liam up and down. “I haven’t seen you before.”

He is so annoying. “What do you want? Knocking doesn’t really work if you don’t wait to be let in.”

He doesn’t even look at me, he’s still staring at Liam. “Just seeing if you lads want a drink, that’s all.”

“Well we can get our own drinks thanks, we’re busy.”

Liam is staring back at Nick and oh my God no, this can’t happen. He cannot fancy Nick. “I could go for a drink, actually Louis. If that’s okay?” 

I’m about to say no, actually Liam, you can’t have a drink with the devil, when Nick just puts his arm around Liam’s shoulders and guides him out of the room with Harry hot on their heels. 

“No problem Liam, we’ve got literally everything, what’s your favourite? I’ve even got cherries and ice and everything. They know how to do drinks in this house.”

I’m onto a loser so I just follow them, huffing. In the kitchen Nick is acting like he’s Tom Cruise in Cocktail. “It’s just pop, you can dispense with the theatrics.”

Liam’s got a root beer in a tall glass with cherries and ice and a little umbrella and he’s grinning from ear to ear. “What are you having Lou?”

“He’s having a cream soda, that’s his favourite.” Nick’s already stirring mine and adding a pink umbrella. I want to say that I hate cream soda actually, but I love it and it looks amazing, so I just sit there sulking while I sip it. 

Harry’s making heart eyes at Nick and I hate it. That would be so awkward, my best friend and my mortal enemy. Now he’s seen Nick flirt with Liam he can’t stop himself, he’s marvelling over every word out of Nick’s mouth and giggling his flirt giggle, hands behind his back and toes pointing at each other like he’s some blushing virgin. And Nick’s falling for it, he’s preening and smiling and oh God, this is disgusting. I focus on my drink and hope it has deadly poison in it so I don’t have to endure this any longer.

After Harry and Liam have left I make myself another drink while Nick rattles round in the kitchen trying to work the coffee machine. 

“Liam’s nice.” He says whilst trying to put the filters under the brew basket. 

“Are you impressed with my good deeds? He was a wreck when I met him, now he’s hot and he’s going to be dating Niall by the end of the week. I’m an ace matchmaker.” 

He looks at me incredulously. “I don’t think Niall’s really his type, Liam’s quiet, Niall will totally overwhelm him. He needs someone a bit older and a bit more...solid.” 

“What do you know, you only met him tonight! Him and Niall are going to be great together, you’ll see. We’ll be dancing at their wedding in a few years.”

Nick comes up behind me and grabs my arms swaying them around. “Why wait? Let’s have a dance now, come on.”

I try and shrug the idiot off but his arms are quite strong so I just give a half-hearted ‘gerrof’ and he goes back to breaking the coffee machine. I sigh, heaving myself up. “Give it here you philistine, don’t they have coffee machines in Manchester or is it all brown ale and ….whippet juice.”

He laughs and sits with his chin cupped in his hands watching me make his coffee. “So what will you do with this new acolyte of yours? Just keep him around to worship you? So selfless Lulu.”

“I have saved him from high school hell by making him hot and popular. I have actually made his life better, how many boys can say that about you?”I give him his coffee and walk out, I’m sick of his bullshit. How can he rile me up so much? Nothing I do is good enough for him, I could save a kitten from a house fire and he’d say ‘Aw, you’ve made the poor kitten cold, you evil boy, he was enjoying that nice snuggly blaze.’ And what was he looking at Liam like that for? Saying he needed someone older and more solid, as if that’s him, he doesn’t even have a home technically. I’m resolving to make Liam and Niall the hottest new couple around if it kills me.

\--

“Look at how everyone is reacting Hazza.” Harry, Liam and I are walking through school grounds and the whole place is looking at Liam. 

“I know,” Harry beams at me. “this is great, they all love him!”

“Alright lads, Liam, you’re looking different.” It’s Zayn, all tattoos on show with his trademark leather slung over his shoulder.

“Harry and Lou gave me a make-over.” Liam’s blushing and giving Zayn a look so we have to move things on and get rid of him.

“Yeah, we’re going to be late for class Zayny so er…”

“Just wanted to invite you to mine for a party tomorrow night. Parents and sisters are all going to Pakistan for a wedding but I told them I couldn’t possibly miss any school at this crucial juncture.” He grins and bounces his eyebrows. “So are you coming?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there Zayn.” Liam looks like he’s just been asked to the prom or something, all big eyes and rosy cheeks. 

I would have gone to the party anyway, but now we deffo have to be there to keep Zayn from corrupting Liam before Niall can get in there. “Yeah, we’ll all come Zayn, see you later.”

He just gives a casual nod and makes a point of saying bye to Liam as leaves. Liam’s still got heart eyes. “Do you think Zayn liked how I look? He didn’t say so did he? He just said I looked different.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Come on Liam, you can do much better. You have something going for you at this school that no-one else has.”

He blushes. “Oh, I’m not a virgin.”

“No, Liam! Mystery. For all anyone knows you were the most popular boy at your school, and the fact that you hang around with Haz and me speaks very highly of you. Zayn’s cute and he’s my friend but he’s not boyfriend material. Now Niall, he’s way popular, his dad can get you into any concert you like and he also said you burned him.”

Liam’s brow creases. “How did I do that?”

“It’s an expression Liam, it means he thinks you’re hot.” 

Liam grins and stares off into space, falling behind us. Harry whispers in my ear. “Is that true?” I throw him my ‘as if’ face and he shakes his head, smiling. I am the master of manipulation.

\--

There’s no real plan for Zayn’s party, I just plan to put Niall and Liam in close proximity and let Niall’s drinking and Liam’s heart eyes collide. Maybe I should have come up with something a bit more clever than that because it starts falling apart pretty quickly when we get there and Zayn’s looking like he is.

Zayn’s my mate and I’m not into him, but he is, objectively speaking, the most beautiful man on the planet. He could be a big time model one day but I know that instead he’ll make just enough money to open some kind of art studio and then just sit there all day painting and smoking. Tonight however, there’s no trace of paint under his fingernails, or red rings around his eyes. It looks like he’s actually made an effort in his tight fitting black cashmere jumper. He’s had a shave and carefully sculpted that designer stubble to make it look low maintenance, but I bet he had a proper wet shave which cost about a hundred quid. He’s got diamonds in his ears and jeans so tight you can see the outline of his cock. Filthy boy. I love him. 

Liam’s also looking cute tonight, he’s rocking some staples from the capsule wardrobe we made for him - the studded belt, the blue denim jeans, the plain white tee which shows off his arms and some black lace up biker boots which I cringe at now because Zayn will love them.

“Alright boys! “Zayn’s addressing all three of us, but he’s only looking at Liam. He stands quite close to him while he looks him up and down and oh God no, he’s in flirt mode. “Love those boots man, they’re sick, where are they from?”

“Erm, All Saints?” Liam is a gazelle, with a limp, on roller skates, and Zayn is a full grown lion. Zayn grips Liam’s bicep for absolutely no reason and gives him his most smouldering look.

“Well they look amazing on you, thanks for coming yeah? Do you wanna get a drink?” Zayn’s eyes are drilling into poor Liam and I know I have to do something or my plans are done.

“We’re just going to look for Niall, Zayn, is he here? Only er….” I lean in close to him and whisper conspiratorially, “this is kind of date for him and Liam.”

Zayn’s jaw drops a little and his big manga eyes fill with hurt. I almost feel sorry for him, he looks genuinely gutted. “Oh. Right, erm, yeah he’s in the kitchen. See you guys later then, yeah?”

He mumbles a sorry as he leaves and Liam’s gaze follows him. “Did you say something to him Louis? He looks upset?”

Harry looks conflicted, like he knows evil has been done, even if it is in pursuit of the greater good. “He did look a bit sad, what did you…?”

“Oh Christ, I didn’t say anything, I just said Niall was waiting for Liam, which he is, so let’s go and find him.“ I pull Liam by the hand before he can follow Zayn and drag him into the kitchen where Niall is sitting on the counter top holding court to a few girls and boys who are looking at him like he’s a rock star and not just some daft Irish kid. 

“So then we’re in the VIP with them and Rio just says ‘do you wanna go and meet one of my mates?’ and we’re all like, ‘yeah, sure’, because it’s dead in there anyway and so the next thing we’re in an Addison Lee and he’s on the phone to someone and it’s only…”

“David Beckham, that’s a great story Niall,” I’ve only heard it fifteen times. I push Liam in front of him and make a gutsy play. “Don’t you reckon Liam looks a bit like Becks?”

Niall looks him up and down and nods. “Sure, he looks like him. Got the arms haven’t you mate?” He laughs and squeezes Liam’s bicep just like Zayn did.

“You should see him in his boxers.” I say, checking Niall’s face for a reaction.

Harry nudges me but I really need to sell this because Niall has got options, and Liam needs to be the chief among them. Niall doesn’t look convinced and Harry finally pulls me away.

“What are you doing? You’re coming on really strong.”

“I’m trying to get Liam and Niall together, what does it look like?” I look back at them and Liam’s become just another person gathered around Niall while he tells stories. Then Liam’s glancing around, and I know he’s looking for Zayn. This is a nightmare. 

“Well what about what Liam wants? Isn’t it obvious he really likes Zayn, and Zayn likes him? Come on, let’s get a drink, you can go back to your Machiavellian ways later.” He drags me off, grabbing us some beers on the way out of the kitchen. There are tons of people here, most of them I’ve never seen before. We have to push past a lot of people eyeing us up to get out of the crowds. 

When we’re sat in one of the living rooms Harry turns my own ways against me and starts trying to set me up, again. He points at a blonde lad in the corner who looks like he could be in a shit boy band. “What about him? He’s cute.”

“Too clean cut, he’s got no edge at all, can you imagine? I’d eat him alive.”

“What about his mate?”

“Are you kidding? He’s shorter than me, we’d look ridiculous together.” Harry and I are sat on a big, white leather sofa drinking quite warm Coronas which don’t even have lime in them. I’m tempted to go and upgrade our drinks but Liam comes in and plonks himself next to us.

“Alright lads. Having fun? Oh and please don’t ask me where Niall is Lou, alright? I don’t think he’s interested to be honest.” Liam’s got what looks suspiciously like JD and coke but he’s not really drinking it. 

“Of course he’s not showing you he’s interested Liam, Niall’s hot property, you’ve got to make plays for him and show him why he should go out with you, you’ve got to market yourself.”

“Why don’t you go out with him, if he’s such hot property?”

Harry just laughs. “Louis is the pickiest person in the world, he’s not even fucked anyone yet because he thinks no-one’s good enough.”

“Harry! Can you keep my personal life a bit more quiet please?” I’m so embarrassed, I hate it when he tells everyone I’m a virgin, just because he lost it at fifteen and never looked back. He’ll do anyone who’s got pretty eyes and half an hour to spare.

Liam looks shocked. “You’re a virgin? Really Louis? Haven’t you done anything?”

“I’ve done plenty of stuff, okay? I just don’t see why I should give up something that valuable to the first man who buys me a Versace pea coat, HARRY!”

Harry just shrugs. “Ben was lovely. He had gentle hands. And that coat is a great piece, I’ll be wearing that forever.”

“Zayn’s got gentle hands, it must be because he’s an artist.” Liam’s got that far away look in his eyes and it just pushes me over the edge. No-one listens to me and no-one respects my judgement, they’re all idiots. Before I know it there’s word vomit flying out of my mouth. 

“Ben was a lovely statutory rapist, more like. And Liam, Zayn is great for scoring weed and that’s about it. his dad might be able to afford to send him to our school but he’s only interested in smoking, graffitti-ing and fucking, which means he has great future prospects. Although fair enough it would be a step up for you.”

I realise I’ve gone a bit far when neither of them come back at me with some smart arse comments. Harry looks like he’s about to hit me and Liam looks like he’s about to cry. I try to backtrack a bit. “OK, I’m sorry for saying that, but you’ve got to see Liam, Zayn’s not right for you.” 

Liam’s face goes stormy, I’ve never seen it do that before. “What the fuck would you know? What right have you got to be giving anyone any advice? You’re just a virgin who can’t drive.” With that he stomps off, Harry following and throwing back a quick ‘see you later’ under his breath. Fuck, what have I done? Why do I have to open my mouth without thinking. I slump back in the chair and down my beer, then Liam’s abandoned Jack and Coke. I feel ridiculous. They’re right. I am a virgin who can’t drive. And I can’t do anything about the driving right now, but I can show them they can’t dismiss me just because I haven’t had a dick up my arse. I walk straight over to the blonde lad from before and press myself against him, hoping Harry and Liam are watching. I whisper in his ear asking if he knows which one is Zayn’s bedroom, and he just nods quickly, taking me by the hand. 

He drags me upstairs and pushes me into the first room at the top of the stairs. This is definitely Zayn’s room - it’s plastered in artwork so you can barely see the walls, and it’s messy as fuck with a strong scent of incense which doesn't really cover up the weed. The blonde presses me against the door and starts kissing my neck. He smells like Calvin Klein and cigarettes and he’s roughly flicking my nipple for some reason as he grinds against me. It’s then that I see something on the wall which makes me cringe inside. It’s a really good charcoal sketch of Liam, smiling and looking off into the distance. It’s before he had his hair cut and I think I remember Zayn snapping a photo like that on his phone when we were all sat on the field late on Liam’s first day. I’ve been such an idiot - he does like Liam, and he doesn’t just want to get laid, he must really care about him. I decide I have to go downstairs and apologise when the blonde plants his lips on mine and starts licking to gain entrance to my mouth. I twist my head to get away but he’s pressed right against me and he’s stronger than he looks. 

“Look, sorry but I’m not feeling this, I need to go and do something.” He’s still grinding against me and it doesn’t feel right so I try to push back against him but he’s pinned my arms to the door. I panic and push as hard as I can and manage to put some space between us, but he looks really mad, not like a boy band member anymore. 

“What’s wrong with you? You being a cocktease? You asked me up here.” He’s coming closer to me again and I push past him but now he’s between me and the door.

I try and draw myself up to look bigger but it doesn’t work because he’s moving towards me and there’s only the bed behind me to break my fall. I see him go to unzip his pants and something just clicks inside me. I make a run for it and manage to get most of the way through the door before he grabs me by the arm. It hurts and I twist away, almost falling down the stairs as I go. I get downstairs without looking behind me and dart straight out of the front door and off down the street. I risk a look behind me and there’s no-one following so I just start taking random streets until I feel like I’m far enough away. I sit on the wall of somewhere called Howard Street and get my phone out, my hands shaking. I can’t call Harry or Liam, they’re still mad at me and they probably wouldn’t even take the call. I’m about to call Niall until I realise that the blonde lad might be one of his mates - what if they’re all in there laughing about the stupid virgin who bottled it? I can just imagine Harry and Liam laughing knowingly and telling them everything. I can’t go back in there. I dial up Addison Lee but then I realise our account is locked and I don’t have enough money to get back. My hands are shaking and I just want to go home, so I do the last thing I want...I call Nick.

He picks up after two rings. “Good evening Lulu, are you calling to ask me to the party? Is it dead without me?”

I don’t know whether it’s the familiarity of his voice, or the fact that he’s the only person who sounds like he’d be happy to see me right now, but I feel the tears coming out and then I’m trying to talk over massive sobs. He tries to slow me down but I can’t, I’m crying my eyes out in the middle of a dark street and I can’t stop. He’s asking me where I am and I manage to get it out before collapsing into more tears. This is really ugly crying, I haven’t cried like this since I was a kid. He’s in the car on the hands free, he’s still talking, his voice gentle and soothing and it gradually starts to calm me down. By the time he pulls up in the BMW I’m almost back to normal and I’m just about to get into the passenger seat when he jumps out and gathers me up in a big hug. That sets me off again and he just stands there, solid as a rock,stroking one large hand up and down my back and shushing me as I cry. 

“It’s alright, I’m here now, everything’s alright.” He kisses me on the top of the head and grips me so tight that I can’t breathe deep enough to sob anymore. He must feel me relaxing because he loosens his grip and opens the car door for me. I go to sit down and see that he’s brought the cuddly brown wool blanket off my bed, the one I wrap myself in when I’m ill or just feeling sorry for myself. That sets me off crying again but I’m too tired to really wail so I just wrap it around me and try to calm down. We drive in silence and he takes a detour through the McDonald’s drive thru, getting my usual order. By the time we’re at home I feel 90% better and he just shepherds me through to the living room where we both sit on the big settee and eat silently. 

When I’m just getting to the dregs of my drink he looks over at me and opens his arms wide. I hesitate but my tiredness wins out and I crawl into his embrace, sighing as he holds me tight. 

“Wanna tell me about it?”

I take a deep breath and let it all out - the row with Harry and Liam, what they said to me, the boy in Zayn’s bedroom, everything. Once I’ve finished, there’s silence, but I can feel tension in his arms where he’s cuddling me. Eventually, he just says. “Do you want me to do anything?”

“Just look after me.” I say, and I don’t even know where it comes from. It’ just slips out, but it is what I really want. No-one ever looks after me, really. They think I don’t need it, and it’s not their fault because that’s exactly what I want them to believe. Independent, capable Louis, who is the man of the house whenever dad’s away. Strong Louis who looks after his sisters. Loyal Louis who tries to run his friends lives even when they don’t want me to. Stupid, vain, idiotic Louis who everyone probably laughs at behind his back. I sniffle a bit more and stifle a yawn and he must notice because he starts to move.

“Let’s get you to bed. You want some tea?”

I just nod and wander off with the blanket still wrapped around me. I can’t even be bothered brushing my teeth, I just take a piss and then put on last year’s Christmas pyjamas, the red flannel ones that are soft against my skin. By the time Nick comes up with my tea I’m snuggled in my massive bed with my blanket feeling a bit better, and a bit like a five year old. He sets my tea down in my favourite mug and sits on the edge of the bed. He ruffles my hair and winks at me. 

“Everything will feel better tomorrow, Lou. Do you want me to go to the party and beat that boy up? Or, not beat him up because I’m rubbish at fighting, but I could insult his hair so badly he actually goes and has it cut, or I could make a sarcastic comment about his trainers that he really loves, a comment that’s so cutting he will only ever wear them in private from now on.”

I smile and shake my head. “He’s not worth it.”

Nick nods like he understands and goes to leave, but I grab his hand and my eyes meet his confused gaze. 

“Will you stay here? For a bit. Just til I fall asleep?” I hate myself for asking and I’m already thinking up something I can say to save face when he refuses when he nods and just gets in on the other side of the bed, slinging his arm around me and telling me to drink my tea before it gets cold. It’s silent apart from me slurping my tea and I realise that I’m never quiet, ever. I can’t just sit like this in silence, I have to be making noise, talking, making people laugh, asking questions, performing. I don’t have to do that with Nick, I can just sit if I want to. I used to think it was because I didn’t care if he liked me or not, but actually I think it’s because I never questioned if he liked me, he always showed it, even when I was a dickhead. When I’ve finished my tea I just turn the lamp off and snuggle down and he follows me, draping his arm over my chest and whispering ‘night’. After five minutes, when he might realistically believe I was doing it in my sleep, I turn over and curl into his chest.

\--

I wake up and I’m alone, but there’s a note scribbled on the whiteboard I have by my bed that says “text me when ur up for tea and bacon butty” with a smiley face and two kisses. I run through last night in my head. I don’t remember him leaving but I know I cuddled up to him. I wonder how long he stayed. I send a quick text saying ‘bacon butty and tea now please, manservant’ and ten minutes later he’s in my room with breakfast for both of us, wearing a Captain America onesie in which I can clearly see the outline of his penis. I tell him as much.

“What, didn’t you think I had one? Did you think I was just smooth like a Ken doll?” He gets in bed beside me and starts tucking in to his bacon sandwich. 

“I don’t think about your genitals at all, actually!” That’s a lie, I saw him naked by accident last year and he was pretty well hung which confused me for a few weeks until I had a porn marathon to overload my brain so I couldn’t remember what he looked like. 

“You’re missing out,” he says with a mouthful of bread. 

After a bit of an uncomfortable silence I ask him how long he stayed last night. He looks at me like it’s a stupid question.

“I stayed all night. I wrote that on the board about half an hour ago. You must have been tired, I thought you’d wake up in the night.”

“No, I’m a heavy sleeper. Sorry.” 

“No, it was alright! I haven’t had a cuddle for ages. It was….alright.” 

I don’t know what makes me do it, but I put my arms around his tummy and snuggle up to him. I’m in a bubble caused by a weird crisis and it’s like it all doesn’t matter any more, Harry and Liam and Zayn and the kid who groped me. It all doesn’t matter because this is my house, and my bed, and my…

I don’t know what he is. He puts his arms around me and rests his head on mine. “Are you alright? Can you make things up with Harry?”

“I don’t know. I was pretty mean to him. And Liam and Zayn. I was a bastard. What if they don’t want to be friends with me anymore?”

He squeezes me. “Don’t be daft, just ring Harry and say sorry and he’ll pull everyone back together won’t he? He’s the glue.”

“Very astute of you. What does that make me then?”

He mumbles something into my hair and I have to ask him to repeat it. He clears his throat like he’s embarrassed. “You’re the glitter.”

My head snaps up. “What? What’s that supposed to mean, that I’m just superficial and useless?” I can’t believe I thought we were actually getting on and then he just - 

“No! I mean you’re pretty and special and you make everything better!” He gets the same look on his face as I do after I say something without thinking, like a mixture of confusion and betrayal. “I mean...oh you know. You’re the glitter. They won’t last long before they want you back, it will seem normal but after a while they’ll notice there’s something missing. They’ll notice everything’s a bit...flat, when you’re not there.”

“Oh…” I don’t know how to take a compliment from him, so I don’t say anything.

“Do you want me to speak to Harry first? He might listen to me, I think he likes me.”

“He loves you, they all do. They all think you’re dead funny and nice and they always want you to come everywhere with us.” 

He makes a noise which is half laugh and half question. “Yeah that would great wouldn’t it? Cramping your style outside the house as well as inside it. I can imagine the look on your face when they say I’m funny and nice.”

“Wouldn’t.” I just mumble, which doesn’t make any sense but I can’t put it any other way. 

He gets up and takes the empty cups and plates. “If I ring him now, shall I tell him to come round?” 

I nod and once he’s out of the room I have myself a big old sigh. I really hope Harry will forgive me, and Liam. I actually feel worst about what I said about Zayn. He’s quite a softy really and I just stereotyped him as the Bradford Bad Boy when actually he would be really good for Liam. They’re both quite quiet, they’re both cute, and they seem to really like each other. I’m a shit matchmaker or I would have seen that from the start.

My phone goes off and it’s a text from Nick. Harry, Liam and Zayn are coming over in twenty. Oh my God, I feel sick. I mean, it’s good they want to talk to me but what if they actually just want to kick the shit out of me? Nick isn’t going to be able to protect me, he’ll be shouting that their belts aren’t real leather while they’re whipping me with them. I pull on some light blue jeans and a white shirt to make me look virginal and apologetic. My eyes look a bit puffy after last night but that’s good, that will make them realise I’ve been crying. When I hear the door go I’m totally not ready to face them but then I can hear Nick’s voice going into its high squeaky range and I go out on the landing to have a look. He’s hugging all of them, making them smile, acting like everything’s fine, offering them drinks. I take a deep breath and head down to the kitchen to head them off in there. It’s harder to get angry in a kitchen, and if they turn on me I can defend myself with the knives. 

When I walk in, Harry gives me a soft, shy smile, Liam looks uncertain, and Zayn is just beaming which makes me wonder if they’ve even told him what I said. I really hope not. “Hiya,” I squeak out.

“I’ll be in the living room for a TOWIE marathon if anyone needs me.” Nick squeezes my shoulder on the way out. I sit down gingerly on one of the stools around the big square breakfast bar and just launch into my apology before they can start on me. 

“Listen, I’m really sorry about what I said last night, you know I didn’t mean it, I was just upset and I lashed out and I love you guys and I only want you to be happy so I know I interfere sometimes and I will stop, I promise.” I have to take a breath and Harry takes the opportunity to cut in.

“I’m still mad at you Lou, you were slut shaming me and that’s not fair, you know me, you know I care about people I sleep with, I don’t treat them badly or anything.” He’s got his disappointed face on and it breaks my heart.

“I know Haz, I just - “

He waves me away and carries on. “I’m sorry if it sounded like I was making fun of you for being a virgin.” He pauses and looks at Liam. “Nick told me what happened with that lad in the bedroom, are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

“No need.” Zayn pipes up, waving his phone. “When I found out, I sent my cousins after him and they’ve done him over.”

Harry looks scandalised. “What?! Zayn you can’t just have people beaten up, that’s like, vigilante shit!”.

I, on the other hand, think this is awesome. “Thanks Zayn, I appreciate it. I’m sorry we were in your room, but I love the drawings.”

Zayn blushes, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him do that before.

“Yeah, er I might have seen them myself when I was up there last night.” Liam says, and it takes me a minute….

“Liam! You and Zayn?! That’s…” And I really mean this. “That’s brilliant, I’m so glad you two got together, honestly, I can see you’re good for each other now, I get it.”

Liam just nods and now I think those two at least are back being friends with me. There’s still one thing left to fix though…

“Er, lads, do you think I could talk to Harry on my own for a bit?” 

They both say yeah and jump off their stools, probably heading in to see Nick and bask in his glory. I don’t know how to start with Harry so I just go over and put my arms around him, my chest to his back and my head on his shoulder. “I’m really sorry Haz, you know I love you, I would never want to upset you.”

He sounds really small. “Do you think I’m a slag? Do you think that?”

“No!” I squeeze him harder. “I was just jealous because everyone loves you and you’re dead confident, you don’t have any hang-ups, I’ve got tons. You were right, I should have gotten laid by now - “

He turns round quickly on the stool and looks me straight in the eyes. “No, you shouldn’t, because you don’t want to. You should do what feels right, Lou, not what everyone else is doing.” His shoulders drop and that’s the signal I was waiting for because it means I’m forgiven and he just wants us to be friends again. I’ve seen it a few times. I give him a big hug and whisper another sorry in his ear. He gives me a peck on the head. “Forgiven.”

I back out of the hug to try and pull him off the stool and into the living room with the others but he stops dead and looks at me. “I need you to do me a favour though…”

“Yeah, anything!” I will literally suck his dick right now if it will make him happy. I hate Sad Harry more than anything in this world. 

“Erm, well…” He’s crossing his arms like he’s embarrassed and I start to get this weird little niggle. “I was thinking….I really like Nick, like I’ve liked him for ages, and I was wondering, like, could you help me, like, get with him?”

I feel sick again. There’s an icy chill in my stomach. “Get with, like, you want to just shag him? Like a one off?” I remember I’ve just been accused of calling Harry a slag and I backtrack. “Or, do you mean, like a boyfriend?” I nearly choke on that last word but Harry doesn’t seem to notice because he nods vigorously. 

“Like a boyfriend. Like, only if it’s not weird for you, like I know you don’t like him.”

“I do like him!” I say too quick.

“Right, so it wouldn’t be awkward then? Because I was thinking it would be awkward if we broke up maybe, but you said you don’t like him coming down here anyway, so even if we did, it wouldn’t be too bad.” 

Harry’s never normally this teenaged in the way he speaks so he must be nervous. I feel like I want to cry, but I don’t really know why. I can’t refuse, not after I’ve upset him last night. If I say no he’ll want to know why, and if I say yes….Well, what if I say yes? Nick loves him so they’ll start going out. And then they’ll be going out. I take a deep breath. “Sure, I’ll help you.”

Harry looks so happy and I am definitely going to cry now so I let him hug me but then say I need a wee and run off to my bathroom as Harry goes to sit with the others in the living room. I manage to keep it in until the bathroom door closes and then I just collapse in angry, frustrated tears. Why do I even care about this anyway? Nick is an idiot, he makes crap jokes and he’s silly and he doesn’t care what people think about him, and he watches dumb TV shows and he’s got a stupid laugh. Okay, fine, maybe Nick is a little bit cute. Maybe he’s got soft, soulful eyes which make you want to just protect him forever. Maybe he’s got a handsome, animated face which makes you feel like the sun is shining every time you look at it. Maybe he does know everything I like and exactly how to stop me being sad and maybe when he puts his arms around me I feel safe for the first time since my real dad left us. Maybe…. Oh shit. Maybe I am completely and utterly in love with Nick Grimshaw. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

This is all my fault. If I hadn’t been a prick last night then I wouldn’t have upset Harry, Nick wouldn’t have had to rescue me, I wouldn’t be in Harry’s debt and I could say they were totally mis-matched and get away with it. I have to help my best friend get together with my first love. I am so fucked. I wash my face, now trying to get rid of the puffy eyes, and focus on just trying to get through today so I can sound Nick out while Harry isn’t around. Who knows, maybe Nick won’t even want to get with Harry? I wander back into the living room and immediately my heart sinks. Harry is sitting next to Nick, too close for my liking, and he looks gorgeous. He’s smiling, his emerald eyes are shining, his hair is all bouncy and soft and just when you might think an angel has fallen to earth his shirt falls open a bit to show off his nipples and his black tattoos. I am so so fucked. Nick notices me and pats the settee next to him so I just go on autopilot and sit down so at least I won’t have to look Harry in the eye. 

“Lulu, Harry was just telling me about the new Happy Ashley launch at the Chiltern Firehouse, do you wanna come?” 

I lean around Nick and see Harry’s eyes flashing me a warning. Oh fuck it’s their first date. “I can’t,” I splutter. I’m busy that night.”

“Oh. Alright then.” Nick sounds disappointed but he’s obviously lying. They carry on discussing their plans, why not eat first? Yeah, why not! Seeing as you’re probably getting married and having a thousand babies, why not eat first? Then maybe get some drinks after and then make your way back here for some sex right in front of me? Maybe that would be good.

Liam’s looking at me funny so I must not be able to keep the hurt from my face. He and Zayn are sat really close, holding hands. That will be Harry and Nick before long. And I’ll be sat here, alone, with my heart breaking every time Nick laughs at one of Harry’s shit puns. 

“Chiltern Firehouse. Quite looking forward to sliding down the pole.” Harry says, and Nick snorts with laughter. Oh God, it’s already happening.

They don’t all leave for another two hours and it’s the longest two hours of my life. Liam looks increasingly concerned as the time ticks on and as they all leave he pulls me to one side. “Are you ok Lou? You look really pale and sick.”

“Thanks Liam, nice compliment. I’m fine! Just a bit tired after last night.” 

He nods but I can see he’s not convinced. Harry is making sure Nick has his number and when he says ‘See you Tuesday’, I feel like I am 100 percent going to vom. Nick closes the door after them and turns round like nothing is wrong. 

“Do you fancy a cuppa?” He says, walking back into the kitchen.

“No,” I call back without moving. “I’m tired, I’m just gonna go to bed.”

He comes back out with a confused look on his face. “It’s three o’clock! Are you okay? Are you ill or something? You look a bit peaky.”

I roll my eyes “Oh do I, Dr Grimshaw? Well I’d better go and lie down then.” I bolt off upstairs and lie on the bed, running everything over in my mind and making myself cry again. After an hour or so of feeling terrifically sorry for myself I decide I have to plan. I could go to Harry and explain that actually, I love Nick. He might back off if he knows that my future happiness depends on him. I could also talk to Nick and persuade him that getting with Harry would not be a good idea, though I don’t know how I’m going to do that. I could also just tell Nick I love him and maybe that would work. Or maybe he’ll shatter my heart into a billion pieces and then piss on them. I get the whiteboard and rub off Nick’s message from this morning, and start to make a list :

Options  
1\. Tell Harry about Nick  
2\. Turn Nick off Harry  
3\. Tell Nick

I leave it on the side and roll over, because I actually am a bit tired and it’s always better to sleep on a decision.  
\--

I can feel something prodding me in the back and some vaguely northern sounding anger coming in my direction but it sounds like I’m underwater. I start to wake up and all I can see is Nick, fuming, waving something white….Oh shit. I sit bolt upright as he berates me and try to get a word in edgeways.

“-wouldn’t be the first time. What even is your problem? It’s only one date and you’re already planning to tell him things about me? What exactly would you tell him? That I’m the awful guy who picked you up last night when you were in trouble and cuddled with you all night so you wouldn’t wake up alone and scared? That I’m the terrible bastard who has looked out for you your whole life? I can’t win with you, do you remember your last birthday? I spent weeks looking for that present for you and you just rolled your eyes and said ‘just the money next time, Nick.’ So I give you money and you say ‘Oh how thoughtful, how long did it take you to pick it out?’. I try and try and try and I get nothing, and even when it’s fuck all to do with you, when it’s someone else who thinks I’m funny and cute and worth knowing you try and sabotage it....”

I say “It’s not like that.” But he’s not listening, his face is red and there are tears welling in his eyes.

“...Were you going to tell him I’m not good enough for him? Because I know you think that. You were going to tell him that Nick’s poor, he’s worthless, he’s unemployed, he’s ugly, he’s an idiot. And that wasn’t even your only option! How were you going to turn me off Harry? Harry’s your friend, why would you do that? You’re just a spiteful, jealous little bastard and you don’t deserve people like me or him in your life so if you don’t like us being together then you can just fuck off.” He flings the whiteboard down on the bed and slams the door behind him. 

There are tears rolling down my face. I look to my left where I’d left the whiteboard on the bedside table and there’s a cup of tea there. I want to throw it at the wall but I’m too exhausted. I start sobbing, dry, angry sobs again, but this time there won’t be anyone coming to comfort me.

\--

I don’t see Nick for three days. When I get out of bed he’s gone, his bag’s gone, there’s £100 on the kitchen workbench and when I try to call him he sends me to answerphone. I don’t go to school because I can’t face Harry so I just call in sick and I must sound like absolute shit because the receptionist doesn’t even bother giving me the third degree. I make excuses when Liam, Zayn and Harry text me, saying I’ve got the flu and I can’t get out of bed. The fact that Harry texts me at all tells me that Nick hasn’t said anything to him. I spend all of Sunday, Monday and Tuesday alternating between sleeping and crying. I can’t eat, I can’t watch TV, I can’t do anything without thinking of Nick and all those things he said. He hates me, and I don’t blame him. I think about the present he got me for my birthday. It was a vintage sixties Doncaster Rovers shirt, and I absolutely loved it. I loved it so much that I had to pretend I hated it. He gave me money for Christmas and I bet he had something different, something thoughtful and perfect, but he gave me cash instead like i told him to. And I threw that back in his face too. Now I remember how quiet he was that Boxing Day, how he always used to really love Boxing Days with us but last time he seemed distant. It was because he’d tried really hard and I made him feel like an idiot. 

It’s Tuesday and in two hours Harry and Nick will be going on their date. I text Harry telling him that Nick likes raspberry mojitos and he has his steak medium but I’ve heard they undercook steak a bit at the Firehouse so tell him to get it medium well or it will be too bloody. I tell him to offer to share a dessert because Nick worries about putting on weight, and to get the salted caramel chocolate mousse because he’ll love that. Harry texts back with a string of smiley face emojis and says ‘thanks for the great tips!’. It hurts, but it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would, because I actually want Nick to be happy. I’ve done enough to make him sad. Just as I put my phone down I hear a key in the door and I jump up and run out to the hall. I’m aware I look like a sickly, homeless scarecrow but that doesn’t matter, I have to make things right.

Nick just takes one look at me and says “I’ve only come back cos I left my outfit for tonight, I’m not staying. Harry’s mum’s going to keep an eye on you.” He goes for the stairs but I run and get in front of him. He won’t look me in the eye.

“Stop, please. I’m really really really sorry, and I didn’t mean for you to see that list.” 

He’s staring at a fixed point somewhere above my head and he just nods. “Okay, apology accepted, I’ve got to go and get changed now.”

“No, please!” I’m getting a bit desperate and I have to be really careful what I say because I don’t want to jeopardise his date with Harry, but I really need him to forgive me. “You are good enough for Harry, you deserve each other because you’re both brilliant and you’re right, I don’t deserve to have either of you. You don’t have to like me or anything but I can’t carry on with you thinking I hate you when I don’t. “

Now he looks at me straight in the eye, and it’s awful. “Then why did you write that list?”

I can’t tell him. I can’t tell him. I just stand there with my mouth open and eventually he just shakes his head and pushes past me. I watch him go up the stairs and my skin prickles and my stomach drops and before I know it I’m shouting out “Because I love you!”

The whole world seems to stop. I’m aware I look a mess and he hates me and now I feel pathetic but he’s just standing there, staring at me.

“You what?” He looks really confused and also a little bit angry.

“I - I love you. But that doesn’t matter. But that’s why I did it. That’s what the list was. Tell Harry I was in love with you, turn you off Harry, tell you I loved you. They were my options. But it doesn’t matter. I just wanted to explain.” I feel like my legs are about to go from under me so I turn to go back to the living room so I can die. But then I hear him running back down the stairs and his hand’s on my shoulder, so I turn round, trying desperately to stay upright.

He really looks baffled. “What? What do you mean you love me?”

I shrug. “I mean I love you. I’m in love with you.”

“Since when?”

“Dunno, does it matter?”

“Well, yeah.” His face has softened and I can’t stop myself from putting my arms round him and sobbing into his chest.

“I’m sorry. You were right. I’m a spoilt, selfish, spiteful little bastard. Harry’s amazing, you’ll be great together. I’m not gonna ruin it for you, I promise. I won’t ruin anything for you ever again.”

He’s squeezing me so tight and I can’t stop crying. His voice is gentle now. “I’m sorry I called you those things, I was just angry and I didn’t mean it. I was just...I read that, and I was devastated, because I thought you were starting to like me, and it just looked like you hated me again, and I really don’t want you to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you. I’m just fucked up, I’m immature and ungrateful and there’s fuck all reason for anyone to even like me, let alone love me.” I feel myself being pushed back and he’s holding me firmly by the arms, staring deep into my eyes with the most serious face he’s ever had on him. 

“Don’t you ever say those things about yourself. You’re not perfect, Lou, but no-one is. You care about people, you’re smart, you’re funny, you’re beautiful. Of course you deserve to be loved. Of course you do.”

A tear runs down my face and suddenly he’s kissing me. His body is so big against mine and he’s holding me like I’ve never been held, like the whole world could fall away and we’d still be standing here. I’m whimpering with how much I want it, gripping his hip with one hand and holding on to his back for dear life. I’ve thought about kissing him before but I’m overwhelmed with how ‘Nick’ his kisses are : full on, gentle, insistent. He stops for second and looks at me. “Your dad’s gonna kill me.”

I shake my head so quick I pull a muscle in my neck. “He won’t, he loves you, he’s always saying you’re a good influence on me.”

If he’s unsure it certainly doesn’t loosen his grip. “There’s a good influence and then there’s de-flowering his only son.”

I smirk a bit because I can see how even just talking about it has made his pupils bigger. “Are you going to de-flower me then?”

He’s not smiling. “What about Harry? He’s waiting for me.”

And just like that I want to cry again. I want to say that Harry would understand but I don’t know anymore. Nick’s phone rings and we spring apart while he looks at it. His brow crinkles. “It’s Liam.” He answers it and walks off, leaving me stood there with a semi and plumped up lips. He keeps turning to look at me, saying stuff, then turning away and it’s making me hella paranoid. Finally he hangs up.

“Liam says...he’s spoken to Harry and they’re all, I mean Liam, Harry and Zayn are all at the Chiltern Firehouse waiting for us, for our group meal.”

I want to cry for Harry, because I instantly know what’s happened. Liam guessed, because Liam is actually a better matchmaker than me. He’s told Harry, Harry has backed off. I am in both of their debts for life. “I love Harry.” I blurt out. 

“Bloody hell, love, make your mind up.” He tentatively puts his arms round me again and we just stand there. “He’s a good mate isn’t he? I’ll tell you what, I never thought I’d end up with two gorgeous boys fighting over me.”

I roll my eyes “We’re not exactly fighting over you, Grimshaw, we’re making deals over who gets you behind your back, you’re kind of like a Tudor princess and we’re deciding on your ultimate fate like you’re goods and chattels.”

He laughs and nuzzles my neck. “Go and get changed, and look a bit hotter than this if you’re gonna be my arm candy, you look like a homeless model.” He slaps my bum as I go upstairs and it’s tough to keep the grin off my face for long enough to brush my teeth.

\--

I know you’re all waiting for the sex story, well you can go on waiting because it’s my business. Oh alright then, it was pretty mind blowing. I’ve had blowjobs and stuff before so I knew all about that, and even though I hadn’t had much practice he made some quite ridiculous sounds when I got on my knees for him , so I must have been doing something right. When he was finally going to fuck me he was so careful and gentle that I had to give him a telling off for treating me like fine bone china. Then he made some pun about a ‘fine bone’ and I had to put my cock in his mouth to shut him up. The actual fucking was...fucking amazing, like it was actually quite romantic. He was looking into my eyes, he was whispering nice things to me, I felt really safe and loved but if you ever tell him I said that I’ll deny it. It hurt a little bit, but it was worth it once we got going, oh my God. I felt like texting Harry and saying “Why didn’t you tell me it was like this?” I never would have held out so long. And when we switched, Christ, I thought my brain was going to dribble out of my ears. I made him ride me, I said it was because I was tired but actually I just wasn’t confident I could get it in first time and even though and we’re past the cruel ridiculing of each other I didn’t trust myself not to get angry if he laughed at me. Great decision though, because I don’t think my legs would have held out. 

Anyway, I’m not a virgin anymore, and here we are at the wedding. 

Mr Chaloner and Ms Phillips wedding, obviously! I’m only 18 for God’s sake, and my wedding will be the greatest that London has ever seen, my dad can’t afford it yet. Because it was me and Harry who got our two hopeless teachers together they invited us, and Liam and Zayn because we pestered them, to their wedding. I’m here with Nick, who’s my boyfriend, obviously, and Harry is happily on his own, even though he’s eyeing up about three different people as we speak. Instead of name cards they have Starbucks cups with people’s names written on them in Sharpie, and I am very proud to go around telling every single person at the wedding why that is. 

So that’s it, the story of me and Nick and how clueless we both were. At least it had a happy ending. Oh my God, Nick has just made a ‘happy ending’ pun. I have to go, I have to kiss him, and slap him in the face.


End file.
